


loyalties

by gortysproject



Category: Wolf 359 (Radio)
Genre: Don't get me wrong Kepler is a top but he subs hard for Cutter, Hand Jobs, M/M, Power Imbalance, Power Play, The Elevator Scene (AKA How Kansas Really Ended)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 01:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14581587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gortysproject/pseuds/gortysproject
Summary: Cutter looks up at him, now, and if it were any other man Kepler would laugh at the way he glances at him through his lashes. Though shorter than him, Cutter’s presence is twice as grand, and all Kepler can do is watch him as he adjusts Kepler’s tie for him. “Where do your loyalties lie, Warren?”With the company, he wants to say.With progress, he considers saying. But he already passed the interview.“With you,” he murmurs into the silence, and it was the right answer.





	loyalties

**Author's Note:**

> this is the worst thing i've ever written! congratulations @me
> 
> anyway this was supposed to be a motivational revision reward for @colonelkepler and then i took like a month to actually finish it but.......here ya go babe try not to hate me

Captain—

No.

_Major_ Kepler can think of three times in his life that he’s been genuinely scared. The first, when he was nine, and his sister contracted pneumonia; he was too young to realise it would’ve only helped him out if she’d died. The second, when he was fourteen, and his uncle handed him a knife and told him it was his turn to kill the rabbit—but hunting got a lot easier after that.

The third, when he stepped into an elevator with Marcus Cutter, unsure if he’d leave it alive.

As the elevator doors grind closed, and Kepler gets his last glance of the Black Archives, he realises he’s still afraid. Cutter is grinning at him, something predatory in the smile, and Kepler exhales quietly.

“A lot to take in, isn’t it, Warren.”

Kepler blinks. Cutter’s voice is so smooth, so gentle, so warm, that he forgets for a moment that he’s dealing with a walking, talking landmine of a man. “The Tiamat?” he questions carefully. “Yes. I always had my suspicions that the company was working with something far greater than you were letting on, but…”

“But you just found out _aliens are real_.” Cutter steps closer, a casual move, and Kepler doesn’t miss the way his thumb presses against the scanner on the wall. He doesn’t dare ask where they’re headed. “And I have to say, you’re taking it well. I’m impressed!” Another step closer. “But there’s something I need to know.”

A careful exhale. An equally careful inhale. Kepler can smell a faint cologne, tasteful, sweet. “What’s… that? Sir.”

Cutter looks up at him, now, and if it were any other man Kepler would laugh at the way he glances at him through his lashes. Though shorter than him, Cutter’s presence is twice as grand, and all Kepler can do is watch him as he adjusts Kepler’s tie for him. “Where do your loyalties lie, Warren?”

Kepler’s throat clicks when he swallows, and judging by the flicker of Cutter’s gaze, he heard it. Lips part—a tongue dips out to wet them, nervous, anticipatory. Where do his loyalties lie?

_With the company_ , he wants to say.

_With progress_ , he considers saying. But he already passed the interview.

“With you,” he murmurs into the silence, and it was the right answer.

A slender finger wraps around the tie it was so easily adjusting a moment ago, and Cutter drags Kepler in, pressing their lips together harshly. Kepler leans into the kiss desperately, and he forgets his guilt, his dignity, a hand automatically moving to rest on Cutter’s waist and his head tilting slightly to deepen the kiss. Cutter bites his lip. Kepler groans.

He doesn’t realise he’s backing Cutter up against the wall until they’re already there, and Cutter’s arms wrap around Kepler’s neck as though it’s his intention to keep him there no matter what—but Kepler’s always enjoyed belonging wholly to his authority, and in that moment, he wouldn’t leave for the world. Cutter runs fingers through his hair. Kepler tugs his waist forward with a finger wrapped around his belt loop to press them flush against each other. From where their lips meet, Kepler can feel Cutter grinning against him.

“How long,” he mutters lowly, “have you been wanting _this_?”

His silence is an answer in and of itself, and Cutter chuckles, pulling him back in to kiss him again. Kepler knows there’s a double-edge to this blade, he _knows_ Cutter doesn’t just want sex with his employee, but he finds himself following him into the trap regardless.

A leg wraps around his waist, and he follows the motion, lifting Cutter up to pin him to the wall as his hands cradle his thighs to keep him up. He ruts against him—involuntary, he thinks, but Cutter’s head falls back against the wall of the elevator and he whispers, “Do it again.”

Kepler grinds against him again. Cutter curls his fingers into the hair on top of Kepler’s head and tugs.

There’s a ding, and the door slides open to reveal Cutter’s office.

“I thought you might appreciate the privacy,” he says, slightly breathless, and Kepler responds by carrying him over to the desk. It’s immaculate, of course, which makes it easy to set Cutter on the surface and kiss him again.

Cutter’s fingers reach to delicately unbuckle his belt before he even notices, and he whimpers when he feels a hand slide past his pants and grip his dick assertively. Immediately, his head falls to press his forehead against Cutter’s shoulder.

If he wants him to submit, then he’ll submit.

Cutter begins stroking Kepler’s dick with slow, lazy pumps, his grip still tight enough to feel delicious but too unhurried to give him any real relief. “Warren?” he asks, his hot breath washing over Kepler’s cheek.

“Sir,” Kepler replies, and his voice cracks slightly on the word. He’d always taken pride in how composed he stays during sex. Apparently, the moment he isn’t in charge, he can kiss that goodbye.

“Are you loyal to me?”

Kepler’s knuckles curl around the edge of the desk, trapping Cutter in as though he has any power in this moment. “Yes, sir,” he hisses, hips twitching into Cutter’s hand when it speeds up slightly.

“Only me?” Kepler can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yes, sir.”

“I’m glad to hear it.” Cutter leans back slightly, catching Kepler’s jaw in his hand and tilting it up so they stare at each other. He’s only a mere inch away; Kepler almost wants to lower his eyes. “You’re Goddard property now, Warren,” and Kepler bucks into his hand again with a choked-off whine, “so you do what I tell you, _when_ I tell you, and you don’t ask questions. No more screw-ups.”

Kepler’s knuckles whiten where they grip the desk. Cutter twists his hand on the upstroke. “No more screw-ups,” Kepler repeats.

“Because…”

It takes a moment for his brain to catch up. “I belong to you.” _To Goddard_ , he meant to say. He makes no effort to correct himself.

Cutter exhales, and in the same moment, his hand slides up from Kepler’s jaw to cup his cheek, and he presses a chaste kiss to Kepler’s parted lips. His hand then moves higher, grazing nails through his hair and tugging back slightly. “Good boy,” he murmurs.

“ _Sir_ —”

Cutter’s hand tightens around his dick, and Kepler comes like that, throat exposed and mouth open, towering over Cutter yet infinitely tiny in his presence. He’s wordless, soundless, a moan catching in his throat that he refuses to let escape. Cutter keeps a hold of him until the stimulation is almost painful. He pulls his hand away, and Kepler’s eyes flutter closed.

Somehow, when he wasn’t looking, Cutter managed to collect a tissue, and he cleans Kepler up gently but efficiently. This can’t be the first time something like this has happened in his office. It feels too practiced, too prepared. Kepler can’t find it in himself to care.

Head bowed over, Kepler forces his breathing to even out, and he’s ready to sink to his knees in front of his boss before Cutter nudges him away.

“The paperwork for the promotion is on your desk,” he says, straightening his jacket. “You can pass it to Rachel on your way out tonight.”

He glances back at Kepler and must see the flicker of confusion in his eyes before it’s carefully masked, as he steps back over to him, leaning in and running a hand through his hair again. “I’ve got a busy day, Warren,” he murmurs, “but we’ll pick this up where we left off. Promise!”

Cutter moves to turn away, but hesitates, looking back at Kepler once more. “And make sure you wear that suit to work tomorrow.”

With that, he winks at him, and saunters out of the room breezily. Kepler, still catching his breath, is left behind.

**Author's Note:**

> as always, find me @aihera on tumblr


End file.
